For Those We Lost
by Kamikatty
Summary: Boone was stuck in his past and so too was the Courier. Both wanted revenge and both wanted to make amends for past mistakes. But could they forgive each others mistakes?
1. Chapter 1

Boone awoke to a loud banging on his motel door. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to be blinded by the rays of the setting sun glaring through the gaps of his boarded up window. Cursing, he put his hand up to shield his eyes and gingerly sat up as he tried to get his bearings. Yet again he had slept on the couch and yet again he had a bottle of whiskey for a companion.

''Boone answer this door this minute'', a voice came from outside. The unmistakeable voice of Jeannie May Crawford.

_Fuck_, he thought as he put his feet to the floor, _what does she want? _The movement caused a wave of nausea to wash over Boone. Hunched over he closed his eyes and held his head in his hands in a vain attempt to stop the room from spinning.

''Open this door or I'll open it myself!'' Jeannie May warned, ''I have a key''. Boone decided to let her do just that as any further movement from him was likely to result in a new vomit rug for his floor.

The door swung open ''What is this?'', she asked as she pointed her hand to her left inviting Boone to look outside.

"What?" he replied still unwilling to move to see what she was talking about.

''The smashed bottles. How am I supposed to attract customers when there is broken glass everywhere. Folk won't find that welcoming now will they?"

Boone finally raised his head from his hands and gave Jeannie May his most disinterested look, hoping she would take the hint and leave him alone. He had no idea what the motel owner was talking about, he knew he started drinking when he arrived home after finishing work that morning but that wasn't an unusual occurrence. He could admit that not remembering much after opening his first whiskey bottle was new territory for him though. He wondered what thoughts his mind had entertained for him to go that overboard.

Jeannie May's shoulders slumped in response to his silence as she let out a heavy sigh '' You know I don't like troublemakers around here Boone, you need to sort yourself out, move on and try to forget about her''.

The words hit Boone like a jolt of electricity to his system, 'forget about her'. Suddenly his mind felt clear. Enraged he shot to his feet, his eyes narrowed focusing them on Jeannie May as a low menacing growl escaped his mouth. How dare she speak about Carla as if she were no more than...no more th..as if she were... no more?

And with that thought the fire in Boone was quenched as soon as it had ignited. He slumped back down onto the couch, suddenly exhausted, drowning in a ocean of his own thoughts. She may not be alive but she still existed to him. She existed in him. She forced every intake and every exhalation of his breath. She commanded every heartbeat, pumping rage through every vein. Every day in every alcohol fueled dream, she was there. Each one more vivid than the last.

Perhaps though, he conceded, she really was no more, because that pale, drawn, lifeless battered woman with the slave collar tight around her neck was not his Carla. But it was the woman who haunted his dreams every single night, crying out for him. Accusing him. Questioning why he never came for her. He had come for her though, she just never saw him. The last thing she never saw.

"Listen, dear", the sound of Jeannie May's voice hauled Boone out of his thoughts and back to reality "I think-"

"Get out", Boone snarled at her as he cut her sentence off. He could see fear creeping across her face owing to his aggressive tone but he wasn't in a forgiving mood and she crossed a line bringing up Carla in such a blasé manner.

"Okay", she said in a calming tone "Lets not start a fight over this. Just want you to feel better is all". And with that she left.

Boone shook his head in disgust. The woman hadn't a clue.

* * *

Boone splashed water on his face in an attempt to freshen up. His night shift was starting in a few minutes and he didn't want to give Manny anymore reason to show his fake concern by going in looking like shit. He wasn't in any mood for one of his 'I'm worried about you' speeches. His concern wasn't there when Boone actually needed it. It wasn't there when he told him Carla had been taken. It wasn't even there when he told him she was dead. So what use did he have for it now?

He let his mind wander to thoughts he had had many times before. Were Manny the friend he should have been and was with him when he went to find Carla, would things have turned out different? Maybe the two of them could have taken on enough of the Legion to get her out. Two ex First Recon snipers, two of the best. Maybe he'd have a family now and the greatest friend a man could want by his side. Instead all he had was a hollowness inside of him, getting bigger with every moment that passed as the bitterness eat him up.

Boone shook his head to empty it of these thoughts, they were of no use to him.

He grabbed his rifle from where he had thrown it on the bed and his 1st Recon beret off the floor at the end of the couch. That was where it usually ended up after he would knock it off in his sleep. He knew it would make sense to just remove it before sleeping but he felt uncomfortable without it, like a child without their security blanket.

With everything he needed for the night gathered up Boone was ready to leave. He made out on his usual route to the sniper's nest in Dinky's mouth only to be surprised by a crunching noise under his feet. Looking down he realized he was walking on shattered glass and was reminded of his earlier conversation with Jeannie May. Surveying the area it was obvious that the spread of glass wasn't sporadic but concentrated in one place. At Manny's door.

Looking up he clocked a note stuck to Manny's door. The note was barely legible but Boone recognized his own drunken handwriting. _Fuck, _he thought to himself as he read it. All he could make out was a few curse words but even that was enough to annoy him. Here he was leaving his emotions on display for anyone to read. Making it obvious how upset he was.

"That's it", he said aloud to himself, "No more whiskey"

He couldn't afford not to be in control. An emotional drunk wasn't going to get the revenge Carla deserved. He may not have been able to save her life, but he would damned well do all he could to end the lives of those responsible for taking her from him.

First though he needed to find out who in Novac betrayed him. How yet, he didn't know, but it would happen.

With that thought Boone scrunched up the note, shoved it in his pocket and continued on his way to the dinosaur.

As he entered the door to Dinky, Boone expected he'd do his usual and ignore Cliff Briscoe's greeting while continuing quietly up the stairs to start his shift. This time was different. Without warning he felt a creature jump at him going for his face . Instinctively Boone kicked out at the creature,sending him flying across the room and hitting hard against the wall. Already he had his rifle drawn and aimed, ready to kill the creature. As he was about to pull the trigger he heard a shout from beside him.

"Hey! Shoot him and I shoot you."

Boone turned to see a girl pointing a hunting rifle at this head. "He attacked me", he replied, keeping his voice low and even.

"Bullshit! Rex wouldn't attack anyone unless I told him to, he probab- Oh wait... you're wearing a hat."

Boone arched an eyebrow in her direction, waiting for further explanation.

" He doesn't really like hats. Doesn't like rats either actually. I'm not sure if it's related. You know, the way the words rhyme and all. Anyway the point being, he wasn't really attacking you, he was just attacking you're hat so you can stop pointing your gun at my dog now. Unless of course you don't appreciate having your head attached to your body?"

Normally Boone wouldn't react positively to someone threatening him, but the girl was just protecting something she cared about and he could relate to that. He could relate to anyone who gave a fuck about anything other than themselves, something this town wasn't big on.

He lowered his rifle as asked and the girl did the same in response.

"You're not from around here." Boone said as the girl went over to inspect her dog.

"Just passing through. I'll be on my way just as soon as my dog regains consciousnesses", she replied cutting Boone an accusing look.

"Maybe you should keep him on a leash"

"Maybe someone should keep _you_ on a leash" the girl muttered as she petted her dog.

Boone let the comment go without response. There was something he liked about the girl. She was certainly different. She had bizarre pink hair tied back but loose strands falling around her face. Leather body armor in bad condition. Dried blood clotted around a slash in the arm of her armor and a long slash across her stomach. There was also a scar on the side of he forehead. She definitely looked like she'd been in a battle or two.

The girl looked up from her dog and caught Boone staring at her, "Wondering how you can incapacitate me too?"

For a moment Boone found himself lost in her eyes. They were open and alert but there was a tiredness evident in them. A tiredness of someone who always has to be alert because the world has thought them to trust nobody. Not too dissimilar to what Boone himself saw when he looked in the mirror.

Maybe this is who he was waiting for. Maybe this was the person who could set him off on his final journey.

"Come see me before you leave. We need to talk"


	2. Chapter 2

"Who did this guy think he was?" the Courier thought to herself, "First he knocks my dog out, then he tells me to come see him? Not fucking likely, buddy."

She watched the sniper go upstairs. He was definitely a sniper and he was definitely NCR that much she could tell from his attire. She had had dealings with the NCR in the past and it was safe to say she wasn't a fan. She viewed them as the lesser of two evils with, she had to admit, the much greater evil being the Legion.

This guy wasn't doing much to change her opinion of them but the Courier's natural curiosity took over. She may not have any intention of talking to the guy but she was interested as to what his story was. The Courier turned from the slowly regaining consciousness Rex to face Cliff who, busy polishing a T-Rex figurine, was apparently unperturbed by what had been going on around him.

"What's his deal?" she asked, pointing her thumb back towards the stairs.

"Who, Boone?" Cliff replied, lifting his eyes from the miniature dinosaur, "Wife went missing a while back. He thinks Legion slavers took her. Not been able to find her since... don't suppose he ever will now."

"Shit," the Courier barely whispered. She saw too many times what it was like having someone taken from you. It could cause you to lose all sense of who you were. It could cause you to lose your mind. Perhaps she should talk to this guy. What harm could it do?

"Huh? Did you say something?" Cliff asked as he admired the shine off the figurine. "Are you sure you don't want one of these? I'll give you one half price."

"No Cliff, I do not," the Courier replied, as she rolled her eyes. "Listen, I'm going up to talk to Boone, mind my dog."

She looked back to Rex who was now fully alert. "You be a good boy for Cliff , Rexy but if he starts talking to you about figurines, do what you have to, I'll say nothing to no one." She gave Rex a pat on the head and started up the stairs.

The Courier opened the door to the dinosaur's mouth and was promptly greeted by the muzzle of a rifle inches from her face. Her eyes widened as she instinctively jerked her head back in response.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," Boone growled.

"Bit jumpy for a sniper, aren't you?" the Courier asked, slowly moving the rifle out of her face with the tip of her finger.

Boone lowered his rifle and the Courier walked by him over to the mouth of the dinosaur.

"Beautiful view from here."

"It's too dark to see anything."

"Yeah, that's what makes it beautiful don't you think?" The Courier was met with a blank expression. "Never mind," she muttered to herself.

"What do you want?" Boone finally asked.

"What the fuck do you mean, what do I want? You're the one who wanted to talk!"

"I didn't think you'd come."

"And now that I have?"

The sniper paused a few a seconds before walking over to beside the Courier gripping onto a dinosaur's tooth with each hand as if trying to take strength from them. He stared out into the distance as he began to speak.

"I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger that's a start."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I need you to find something out for me. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night when I was on watch. Someone set it up. I don't know who.

Boone then turned to look at the Courier. "I don't know if there is anything to find but I need someone to try."

"Alright, I'll do it," the Courier responded which such speed she surprised even herself. Looking at Boone though, she could tell she was looking at a broken man. Despite the calmness of his voice she could hear the pain beneath it and despite his sunglasses she could see the tiredness in his eyes as if they hadn't rested since his wife went missing. He was broken and if she could mend him using her own broken pieces then maybe there was some hope for him, for she herself was surely beyond saving.

"Bring him out in front of the nest here when you find him and I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself. And here take this," Boone said as he handed her his beret. "Wear it so I know you're with him.

The Courier nodded, took the beret and exited the nest. Deciding to take a minute, the Courier sat on the top of the stairs to make a mental note of who to question. Cliff would be first for the obvious reason of him currently being the closest to her. Next would be Jeannie May. She was the owner of the motel so was sure to know a lot of what was going on around Novac. She was after all the one who pointed the Courier in the direction of Manny when she asked about the man in the checkered suit who had shot her in the head. After that she would see.

Though the seriousness of the task ahead was not lost on her, the Courier could feel an excitement build within her. It always did when there was an investigation to be done. This is where she really came into her own. She may be nifty with a gun and she was faster than any mutant the wasteland had to offer but this was her forte.

It was a talent that she nurtured from childhood when she would sit on a large rock outside her parents home spending her days watching the people of her settlement and their interactions. She learned how to decipher a person's body language becoming able to tell who in the settlement got on and who only pretended. In time through the aid of a pre war book on body language her dad found for her, she was able to tell who were downright lying to one another. She never stopped being amazed at how often a person's body would betray their words.

Often she would be joined by two friends from the settlement. Todd, a boy sick with a radiation poisoning so severe that no RadAway could cure, enjoyed the sedentary nature of their play and Liam, the cheeky rascal of the community who more enjoyed the snooping nature of their play. They would sometimes spread out to spy on their neighbours and then meet up to compare notes. Life was good.

The most vivid memory of those times the Courier had however was the day she was wandering around the settlement looking for someone of interest to study when she came across these two men she wasn't familiar with having a hushed conversation behind the old school ruin. They were tall and athletic, wearing almost identical black pants and jackets. This being too interesting to pass up on she got in closer and hid behind an old car wreckage. Unfortunately she had not gone unnoticed and one of the men was quickly upon her grabbing her by the scruff of the neck and lifting her off the ground. Automatically she started hitting out and screaming, catching him on the jaw. The man in retaliation threw her to the the ground and kicked her hard in the ribs. She screamed out a loud yelp in pain.

"Stop screaming, child," he snarled as he kicked dirt in her eyes and mouth.

The Courier started into a fit of coughing, struggling to breathe, making her ribs ache. Disorientated and blinded by the dirt, she felt this was the moment she would die when the familiar voice of Sheriff Johnson could be heard approaching.

"What in the world is going on here," he asked.

"Perhaps you should ensure that your children are not allowed to do whatever they please, Sheriff," the man who had hurt her said.

"Well now why don't you just be on your way and I'll take care of this."

"Be sure that you do" the man said and the Courier heard footsteps departing.

Rubbing the dirt out of her eyes the Courier saw the kind blue eyes of the Sheriff looking down at her offering his hand for her to take. She gladly accepted and he pulled her to her feet.

"You have got to stop following people around, not everyone is as forgiving as your neighbours, you know? Did they hurt you?" the Sheriff asked.

"No, I'm fine," she lied in response. She liked the Sheriff, he had long grey hair that he never tied back and a tanned weathered face that seemed to hold a thousand stories. She didn't want to worry him.

"Lets get you home to your parents, then."

As the Courier and the Sheriff approached her home, she could see Todd sitting on the large rock outside her house.

"Aw you didn't get caught again did you?" he whined.

"Yes she did and let this be the final time I see any of you at this nonsense, now go on home" the Sheriff replied.

"You need to learn to hide better" Todd scowled at the Courier before he slowly lifted himself off the rock to go home.

Once having apologised to the Sheriff for all the trouble the Courier was causing, her mother started shouting at her. Without her dad there to protect her she felt the full force of her mother's anger.

"Why must you always have to be so difficult? Why can't you be like all the other little girls in the settlement? People are going to think we're incapable of raising you right, you know that don't you? I am so ashamed of you right now, just get out of my sight."

It was the last thing her mother ever said to her.

Feeling a wetness slide up her face the Courier was thrust back into reality. "Ah Rex what are you doing?" she shouted at her dog pushing his head away from hers.

Rex whimpered and lay his head on her lap looking up apologetically at the Courier.

"I'm sorry boy, I didn't mean to shout," she said scratching him behind the ears, before noticing a drop fall to his nose.

Putting her hand to her cheeks she felt them wet from tears. She had been crying and hadn't even noticed. Looking back down at Rex the Courier realised that he was only trying to comfort her by licking her face.

"What would I do without you boy," she murmured resting her head on Rex's and hooking her arms around him.

The Courier stayed like that for a moment before sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. "Right, lets go see if we can't root out a bad guy, Rex," she said getting up and proceeding down the stairs.

Down in the shop it was obvious Cliff was gone, the Courier wondered if he had noticed her crying and thought it best to leave her to it. "No matter," she said "on to the motel."

Approaching the motel the Courier could see a light shining out through the window and the radio playing inside. She entered expecting to see Jeannie May sweeping the floor given that that was what she appeared to spend her day doing, but instead the place was empty.

"Jeannie May?" she called out, "Hello?" Why would she leave the door unlocked if she wasn't here. Seemed pretty stupid.

The Courier decided it best to go over to the counter and look behind it in case Jeannie May was there cleaning something and didn't hear her. Looking over it, there was nobody there but something else caught the Courier's eye. Sitting into the ground was a shiny silver safe.

Another one of the Courier's many talents was lock picking, a talent that had contributed considerably to keeping her alive in the Wasteland.

The Courier paused momentarily to think about the moral implications of opening the safe. Jeannie May did help her out when she arrived in town but even so the Courier couldn't say she actually liked the woman and she was stupid enough to leave her door unlocked so it was practically her own fault if she got robbed.

Satisfied with her reasoning the Courier rounded the counter, dropped her bag to the floor and removed a screwdriver. She then reached into her pocket for a bobby pin and went to work on the lock, singing along to 'Jingle, Jangle, Jingle' on the radio as she went. Within the minute the lock was opened and a wide grin spread across the Courier's face, she felt like a child at Christmas time wondering what present she was about to unwrap.

She opened the safe to reveal some caps, pre war money and other bits and pieces that weren't overly exciting to her. Happy with her loot the courier started packing her stuff away when she spied a sheet of paper lying at the bottom of the safe almost unnoticeable in the dim light.

"Hmm could be personal," the Courier mused aloud before laughing, "Yeah, like I care!" She reached down and grabbed the sheet noticing 'Bill of Sale' written on the top. Reading through the page the Courier froze when she realised what she was reading. She could feel the blood drain from her face before her hands began to tremble with rage. "Jeannie May you fucking bitch."

No longer able to hold the anger inside she released it through her 9mm, shooting up everything of worth in the room until something clicked in her head and she stopped. Calmness descended on the Courier as she realised Jeannie May would never be alive to witness the destruction she was causing to her motel. With that thought she folded the page, put it into her pocket and left for Jeannie May's house.

Coming towards Jeannie May's house the Courier adopted a panicked demeanor before knocking on the door. It was quickly answered.

"Hey there, I hope everything is going alright for you?" Jeannie May drawled.

"There's something you need to see in front of the dinosaur come quick," The Courier replied frantically.

"Really? What is it?"

"Well I think you should come and see it for yourself."

"Maybe you should get Boone to take a look at it."

"He's the one who said to get you."

"No I don't think I want to travel out there at night."

The Courier, losing her patience dropped the act and a cold dark expression replaced the distressed one. She removed her 9mm gun from it's holster and pointed it at Jeannie May's head.

"I _really_ think you should come with me," the courier said, her voice low and even.

Jeannie May's face showed a mixture of fear and defiance. "What? Are you going to kill me?"

"No, certain people would be very upset with me if I did," the Courier replied struggling to hold back a smirk despite the callousness of it.

"I'm sure they would, I'm a respected member of this community."

"Yeah, yeah, now lets get a move on" the Courier said motioning with her gun for the motel owner to move.

The two of them walked in silence to the dinosaur, the Courier behind never letting her gun leave Jeannie May's head. She slipped on Boone's beret just as they were approaching the dinosaur.

"Stop here," the Courier said, the gun still to her head.

"So what is going to happ-"

A crack of gunfire sounded through the air followed by bone crunching as Jeannie May's neck was separated from her spine with such force it sent the Courier's gun flying through the air.

"What the fuck?!" she shouted up to the nest, her arms thrown out wide. She thought he would at least give her time to move away from the motel owner. The Courier shook her head in anger, collected her gun from where it landed and stormed back up to the dinosaur to confront Boone.

Slamming through the door of the nest the Courier gave Boone a shove that forced him to take a step back to balance himself. "What the fuck were you doing? You could have killed me you fucking asshole!" she shouted in his face.

"No I couldn't, I don't miss," he responded calmly.

"Oh great yeah, glad I have your word for it."

"You also have your life."

The Courier let out a long sigh, slumping her shoulders. She couldn't argue with that.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"Here, it's a bill of sale," she responded handing him the page.

"Guess it'd be like them to keep paperwork."

"Hey, you know she's probably still alive," the Courier offered thinking it might give him some hope.

"She's not."

"How do you know?"

"I just do, now drop it"

Boone seemed to be getting angry so she changed the subject. "What will you do now?" she asked.

"I won't be staying. I know that. Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries. Maybe I'll wander like you."

The Courier felt a pang in her gut. He sounded so defeated. The thought of him wandering alone just waiting for death was too much to take. She felt protective over him. She saw something of herself in him, they had both been screwed over and they both wanted vengeance but she had a much clearer plan than him on how to get it.

"Come with me," she said "We can kill more legionaries together."

"It won't end well," he warned in response.

"It's the Mojave Wasteland Boone, when does anything ever," she reasoned.

"Fine, lets get out of here"

They descended the stairs and together with Rex left the dinosaur and Novac behind them and headed for Boulder City.

"Hey, are you an outlaw now" the Courier asked.

"No, people die out there all the time. Besides I was on a break"

The Courier let out a small laugh. This guy could really grow on her.


End file.
